


Girls' Night

by piratesPencil



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: (well technically its hair UNbraiding), F/F, First Kiss, Hair Braiding, Light Angst, mentions of Hiccstrid and Heathlegs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24691600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratesPencil/pseuds/piratesPencil
Summary: Heather was perfect. She’d been perfect from the first time Astrid had laid eyes on her. She’d hated her for being perfect, envied her for being perfect, loved her for being perfect.Astrid realizes that she wants Heather, but she doesn't know how long they can last.
Relationships: Heather/Astrid Hofferson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Girls' Night

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime between "To Heather or Not To Heather" and "Gold Rush", while Heather is living on the Edge with the riders.

“So… How are things going with you and Hiccup?” Heather asked.

She was sitting cross-legged on her bedroll on the floor by Astrid’s bed, running her fingers through her dark hair to release it from its braid, looking up at Astrid expectantly.

Astrid groaned and flopped back onto her bed, throwing an arm over her eyes. “It’s not _going_ at all,” she said.

“Aww,” Heather whined, equal parts playful and sympathetic.

Astrid heard her getting up off the floor, and then she felt the wooden slats of her bed shift as Heather sat down beside her. She pulled her arm away from her eyes and turned her head to see Heather looking down at her, long dark hair loose and curled around her face and shoulders.

“Is it really that bad?” Heather asked.

She reached for Astrid’s hair, and without being asked, Astrid scooted up into a sitting position, her back to Heather so that she could begin undoing Astrid’s braid for her.

“It really _is_ that bad,” Astrid confirmed, closing her eyes as Heather set to work. “Every time I think we’re getting somewhere, he pulls away. I’ve made it clear that I like him, haven’t I? I’ve kissed him. More than once. Since we were fifteen, Heather! And he still can’t seem to act like we’re more than friends.”

“Have you ever just _told_ him that you like him? That you want to be more than friends?” Heather asked. She made it sound so easy, so casual.

“Is kissing him not clear enough?” Astrid said. Hiccup _had_ to know how she felt about him. It was his turn to act, wasn’t it?

Heather made a non-committal sound, and Astrid felt her shift, like she might be shrugging.

Astrid sighed. “Let’s not talk about Hiccup tonight. No boys. Tonight is a girls’ night, okay?”

“Okay,” Heather agreed.

“Good.” Astrid sighed again, pleased this time, and leaned back into Heather’s touch.

Talking about Hiccup’s inability to pick up on her advances was beyond frustrating, but it was impossible not to relax when Heather was running her hands gently through Astrid’s hair, lightly massaging her scalp and her neck.

She felt herself melting under Heather’s touch, relaxing in a way that she never had before Heather moved in with her. Astrid knew that, if Heather was going to stay on the Edge, she’d need her own hut eventually. But Heather didn’t seem in any rush to get her own hut built, even though the others had already picked out a spot for her, and with every passing day, Astrid found herself hoping more and more that Heather would simply choose to stay with her, in her hut.

Astrid had never had a friend like Heather before. Up until recently, she wasn’t sure she could really say that she’d ever had a friend at all.

For her whole childhood, Astrid had always wanted to be the _best_. The best Viking, the best warrior, the best dragon hunter. She wanted to be smart, to be strong, to have it all. Just good was never good enough for Astrid Hofferson—she needed to be _great_.

And that attitude had pushed away the other kids on Berk. No one wanted to be friends with the kid whose only goal was to be better than them. At the time, Astrid had liked it that way. She’d figured that all the other kids on Berk, especially the ones her age, were beneath her.

Sure, Snotlout was strong, and Fishlegs was smart, and the twins were fearless, and even that runt Hiccup was creative and pretty damn good at blacksmithing despite his scrawny size. But none of them had an ounce of what Astrid had, and she wasn’t going to waste her time with them.

But Hiccup wasn’t the only one who’d changed during their dragon training with Gobber four years ago. Those few weeks had upended Astrid’s entire life—she’d learned what it was like to _lose_ , to not be the best at everything she did. But she’d also learned what it was like to have _friends_ , to work with a team that she genuinely valued and cared about, even if they still got on her nerves most of the time.

Thanks to Hiccup, thanks to Stormfly, thanks to the last four years she’d spent being a Dragon Rider, everything about Astrid’s life had changed.

And still, none of that quite compared to Heather.

Of course, Astrid had hated Heather when they’d first met. She’d been instantly suspicious of the other girl—though, to be fair, she’d been _right_ , mostly—but more than that, she’d felt threatened by Heather.

Because when Astrid saw Heather, she saw the person she _wanted_ to be—smart and strong and cunning, but also charming in a way that Astrid had never managed to be. Of course Heather would suggest just _telling_ Hiccup how she felt. Heather would have no problem telling someone she liked them—and convincing that person to like her back in the same breath.

Because for all her attempts at being the _best_ , the thing that Astrid had never mastered was _people_. How to be warm, how to be friendly, how to be _likeable_.

She knew that the other riders were her friends now. That they would defend her with their lives, just as she would defend theirs. And she knew that, for all his hesitation to move their relationship forward, she had something special with Hiccup, a friendship the likes of which she could only compare to her friendship with Stormfly. But Astrid knew she wasn’t _likeable_ , not conventionally, not the way Heather was.

“What’re you thinking about?” Heather murmured.

Astrid jumped. Heather’s hands were no longer running through her hair, but were now resting lightly on Astrid’s shoulders, and Heather had leaned in close, her lips inches from Astrid’s ear.

Astrid shivered as she felt Heather’s breath ruffle her hair.

“Nothing,” Astrid said.

“Hiccup?” Heather prompted.

“No,” Astrid said. “No boys, remember?”

“Mm, right,” Heather said. Her hands slid from Astrid’s shoulders, and then she leaned forward, her front pressed against Astrid’s back as she wrapped her hands loosely around Astrid’s waist, her chin propped on Astrid’s shoulder.

Astrid was used to this, this closeness, with Heather. For the most part, neither of them were particularly touchy people, unless they were sparring. No matter how much Astrid cared about the other riders, she didn’t often feel inclined to hug them, to hold their hands, to throw an arm around their shoulders, to cuddle up to them when they were sitting together.

But with Heather, it was easy. Touching Heather was like breathing. When she stood near Heather, watching the other riders spar or listening to Hiccup give some speech, she’d link her arm through Heather’s without even thinking. If she sat down beside Heather on a bench in the clubhouse, she’d throw her legs into Heather’s lap without batting an eye. She didn’t mind if Heather came down to the river with her to bathe—she looked forward to it, actually, would lather soap into Heather’s hair and then turn around so Heather could wash hers.

With the other riders, Astrid didn’t crave that closeness, would never seek it out. With Hiccup, no matter how much she wanted it, that kind of closeness seemed impossibly far from her reach, like she wouldn’t even know where to start. But with Heather, it was easy, had always been easy.

So when Heather leaned into her, she leaned back, let herself bask in the warmth of Heather’s body, in the safety of her arms.

“Hey, Astrid?” Heather said, her voice soft beside Astrid’s ear.

“Mm-hm?” Astrid felt like she could fall asleep, right there, nestled in Heather’s arms.

“Can I kiss you?”

Astrid’s heart, which had been slow and sleepy along with the rest of her, leapt to attention. A thrill coursed through Astrid’s body, from the top of her head to her toes. For a brief moment she thought it was panic, but it was something warmer than that, something more… eager.

She turned her head, just slightly, so she was almost facing Heather, whose chin was still propped gently on Astrid’s shoulder.

“Kiss me?” Astrid repeated, softly, like she might have heard wrong.

“Yeah,” Heather said, the word no more than a whisper. “Can I?”

It was hard to think, with Heather right there, her body so warm against Astrid’s back, her hair soft against Astrid’s arm, her breath gently ghosting across Astrid’s cheek.

“Of course,” Astrid breathed, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. Maybe it was.

She turned her head fully towards Heather, and then their lips met, just as gentle and warm as the rest of Heather.

Astrid felt her heart hammering in her chest, her whole body tingling like electricity under her skin. She had never felt more simultaneously thrilled and relaxed, hadn’t known it was even possible to feel like a sparking Nadder flame and a pool of calm water all at once.

Kissing Heather was as easy as touching her. It felt right in a way that Astrid never would have expected, right down to her core, filling Astrid up with so much warmth that she knew she could live in this moment forever.

Gently, only pulling away long enough to breathe, Astrid turned so that she had her front to Heather instead of her back. Just as gently, she pressed Heather back against the bed, until Astrid was lying on top of her, still kissing her, never ever wanting to pull away.

Heather was perfect. She’d been perfect from the first time Astrid had laid eyes on her. She’d hated her for being perfect, envied her for being perfect, loved her for being perfect.

“Astrid…”

Heather had pulled away just enough to breathe Astrid’s name, and now Astrid blinked, looking down into Heather’s green, green eyes. She gasped, only now realizing how breathless she was, still wanting to continue kissing Heather even if it meant she couldn’t breathe at all.

But Heather reached up a hand to caress the side of Astrid’s face, her fingers tangling gently with the blonde hair that spilled down around them, and that touch felt almost as good as a kiss.

“You’re beautiful, Astrid,” Heather said softly.

Astrid felt her face grow as warm as the rest of her. “Not as beautiful as you,” she said, and she meant it.

Heather smiled, a genuine smile, like she was surprised that Astrid found her beautiful, like she somehow didn’t know how perfect she was.

“Kiss me, Heather,” Astrid said, because now that they’d started, Astrid didn’t ever want to stop.

“How could I say no?” Heather said. She reached up both hands, threaded them through Astrid’s hair, and pulled Astrid down to kiss her again, harder than before, but just as beautifully.

* * *

Astrid woke to the feeling of fingers ghosting gently up and down her arm, a brush as soft as moth wings. She blinked her eyes open slowly, lazily, and smiled when she saw Heather’s green eyes looking down at her.

“Hey,” Heather said. She was propped up on one elbow, her cheek resting in her left hand as she ran her right hand up Astrid’s arm. Her voice was rough with sleep, and the sound of it sent another warm thrill through Astrid’s body.

“Hey,” Astrid replied. She wanted to reach up and tangle her fingers in Heather’s hair, wanted to pull her down and kiss her senseless, wanted to recreate the warm magic of the night before.

But there was sunlight streaming in through Astrid’s windows, casting an orange glow over Heather. And somehow the light of day made it harder for Astrid to lose herself in Heather. There were questions she hadn’t asked in the dark of night, hesitations that hadn’t been there when there had been nothing but Heather and moonlight.

The sunlight didn’t seem to bother Heather, though. She leaned down, closing her eyes, and pressed her lips softly to Astrid’s.

Astrid pulled way, and the look of hurt and betrayal that flashed across Heather’s face stabbed something deep inside of Astrid.

“Wait,” Astrid said softly. She propped herself up on one elbow, too, so they were eye to eye.

“I’m sorry,” Heather said hurriedly, pulling away from Astrid, withdrawing her hand from Astrid’s arm.

“No, it’s okay,” Astrid said, grabbing Heather’s hand in her own, twinning their fingers together. “Don’t go. It’s just…”

Heather stared into her eyes, frowning, looking not just hurt but confused. What had she expected? Had last night made sense to Heather? Had it even made sense to Astrid?

“What about… what about Fishlegs?” Astrid asked. Suddenly, guilt welled up in Astrid’s throat. Heather and Fishlegs were together, weren’t they? Had Heather just cheated on Fishlegs, on one of Astrid’s friends, one of her fellow riders, with Astrid?

“What about Fishlegs?” Heather repeated, still frowning, still confused.

“Isn’t he… Aren’t you together?”

“Are we?” Heather closed her eyes and sighed, then fell back against the pillows. “I don’t know. I like Fishlegs, I really do! He’s funny and sweet and smart, and he feels… safe. But maybe _too_ safe. I don’t really do safe, Astrid.”

She rolled onto her side so that she was facing Astrid again, gave her a small, sardonic smile. “Maybe it’s the Berserker in me, huh? I just can’t seem to settle for something safe and simple, can I? Fishlegs deserves someone safe, someone dependable, someone who’ll _stay_.”

There was a lot to unpack in Heather’s words, but it was the last thing she said that washed over Astrid like Flightmare breath.

“You’re not going to stay?” Astrid asked, her voice small.

“Oh, Astrid.” Heather reached up, brushed her fingers along Astrid’s jawline. “I don’t know. I want to. I love being here with you guys. But… staying in one place, being part of a team. It’s not me. It can’t last.”

“It _can_ last,” Astrid insisted. She curled her fingers around Heather’s hand, held on tight, like maybe she could physically restrain Heather from leaving them, from leaving _her_. This wasn’t just about what had happened last night, not anymore. This was about Heather, about how much Astrid wanted her. Needed her.

“I’m sorry, Astrid,” Heather said. She didn’t look confused now, only sad, regretful, like she was forcing herself not to cry. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I shouldn’t have… you deserve someone who’ll stay, too. I just thought… I guess…”

She sighed, closed her eyes again, and squeezed Astrid’s hand. “You see me in a way that the others don’t, Astrid. You always have. You know that I’m not… I’m not a good person, I guess.”

“ _What?_ ” Astrid sat up, shocked by Heather’s words. What had she ever done to make Heather think that she thought she was a bad person? Sure, four years ago she hadn’t trusted her, but ever since Astrid had been in Heather’s court more than any of them.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Astrid,” Heather said, as though she could read Astrid’s panic on her face. She sat up, too, so they were eye to eye again. “I just mean… You get me, Astrid, don’t you?”

Astrid didn’t know what to say. What did Heather want her to say? That she was a bad person? That it was okay for her to cheat on Fishlegs, to kiss Astrid in the dead of night, to leave them?

“You’re not a bad person, Heather,” Astrid finally said, because no matter what Heather did, Astrid believed that to be true. “You’ve had a hard life. Maybe you’ve made some bad decisions. I don’t know. But you’re not a bad person.”

Heather laughed, but it was a sad laugh, resigned. “I wish I believed that. I wish I was like you, Astrid.”

“Like _me_?”

“Like you,” Heather confirmed. “The way you always see the best in people, the way you push them to become the best version of themselves. The way you’re kind, the way you’re brave. The way you would never leave the people who love you.”

“I’m… not. I’m none of those things,” Astrid said. Now it was Astrid’s turn to be confused—it felt like Heather had flipped the script on her, had taken Astrid’s own thoughts right out of her head. But it was _Heather_ who was all of those things—kind, brave, loyal—not her.

“You _are_ Astrid. Don’t you see it? They’d fall apart without you, all of them.”

Astrid shook her head. She could feel tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. Last night had been so nice, so _perfect_. How could this morning hurt so much?

“No,” she said softly. “That’s not true. They don’t… but I need _you_ , Heather. I’d fall apart without _you_.”

“You were fine without me for years, Astrid. You’ll be okay,” Heather said.

“I don’t _want_ to be fine without you,” Astrid said.

They stared at each other for a long moment, their hands still intertwined between them. Heather broke first, looked away.

“What about Hiccup?” Heather asked. “You have him.”

Astrid’s stomach twisted into knots. That was the question, wasn’t it? Even if Heather stayed, could she have Heather? Would she be willing to give up Hiccup?

She wanted them both. Maybe it was selfish, greedy, impossible. But she couldn’t imagine giving up either of them, couldn’t bear the thought of the hole that either one of them would leave in her.

“This isn’t about Hiccup,” Astrid said softly. “No boys, remember?”

Heather laughed, a genuine laugh, like Astrid’s words had surprised her.

“Right,” she said. “Of course.”

She pulled her hand out of Astrid’s, and the loss of contact made Astrid feel cold. But then Heather’s hands were on the sides of her face again, fingers twisting into her hair. She leaned forward until their forehead were touching, curtains of blonde and black hair cutting off the sunlight. Just the two of them, inches apart in their own tiny world.

“I can’t promise I’ll stay, Astrid,” Heather said, her voice barely a whisper. “And you can’t promise that you’d choose me over Hiccup. I don’t _want_ you to promise me that. But I do want to kiss you. I want to kiss you and hold you and love you, Astrid, even if it doesn’t last forever. Even if it only lasts for another month, or a week, or a day. But only if you want that, too.”

Astrid swallowed. This was another thing Astrid wasn’t good at—uncertainty. Could she give herself over to Heather, knowing that it couldn’t last? Could she let Heather hold her heart, knowing that at any moment it might shatter?

But that was a silly question. Heather already held a piece of Astrid’s heart. She always would, no matter what happened, no matter what choice Astrid made right now, no matter what choices either of them made in the future.

Astrid breathed in, and everything was Heather—her warmth, her scent. Astrid wanted this, now, and for however long it lasted.

“Kiss me, Heather,” she said.

And Heather did.


End file.
